In the Name of the Ministry of Magic
by Sakiku
Summary: Cornelius Fudge, ex-Minister of Magic, stumbles upon a Seigaku tennis match and, as usual, manages to make a fool of himself. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Prince of Tennis, and I don't make any money from this.

**Summary:** Cornelius Fudge, ex-Minister of Magic, stumbles upon a Seigaku tennis match and, as usual, manages to make a fool of himself.

**A/N:** The greater the episode number, the more impossible the tennis feats become in Prince of Tennis. I thought it would be funny to have someone who sees them for what they are.

**

* * *

In the Name of the Ministry of Magic**

"In the name of the Ministry of Magic, I demand that you immediately cease and desist your foul doings!" a huffing and puffing Cornelius Fudge shouted.

Like a wildfire, silence spread over the court. Then hushed whispers erupted, gossip flowed, and curious gazes were directed at him. The two perpetrators though merely stared at him, holding their strange wands at ready but not directed at him. How could they even cast through those curious shapes?

Blustering, Cornelius Fudge stepped onto the hardened clay surface. What were they thinking, doing something like _this_ in front of so many muggles? The younger one, the one wearing that strange hat that shaded his eyes, looked as if he was barely of school age, at most a second-grader at Hogwarts. The taller one with the glasses though looked old enough to be of age, and he should be responsible enough to know better.

Really, what was the Japanese magical community teaching youngsters these days?

He startled when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder from behind. Turning around, he came face to face with a brown-haired boy smiling eerily at him. He thought he had seen the boy waiting on the edge of the field, but those people here all looked the same anyway. "What," he grunted at the unwanted interruption.

The boy's smile only grew wider, so wide that his eyes were almost shut. "Ekusu- kyuuse mi, sehru, yuuh interuraputu geimu. No visitah on kaato." (_Excuse me, Sir, you interrupt game. No visitor on court_.)

Cornelius Fudge huffed. "Now listen here, boy, if you have something to say, you can do it in a language everyone else understands." Didn't have anyone have any decent manners around here?

A snort sounded from behind him. Rounding on the new interruption (really, all that turning around was going to make him dizzy), he was faced with the younger boy who was still holding his not-wand at the ready. From beneath his strange hat, the boy scoffed at him. "Keh, get your ears cleaned. He was speaking English. Now get off the court, you're interrupting our game."

How rude. "Listen, boy, don't think I don't know what you're up to, you little miscreants. Muggle baiting, eh? You're violating the Statute of Secrecy, rather grossly I might mention, so stop this nonsense immediately. There are muggles watching!"

"Muggles?" The boy wore a bemused expression, rapping his strange wand against his shoulder. "I'm afraid I don't know this word."

Before Cornelius Fudge could recover from that boy's audacity, the boy on the other half of the court called out sharply, "Echizen!"

Then the two proceeded to jabber away in that strange language of theirs that no respectable person would speak. And they were ignoring him, the smaller boy only pointing at him occasionally. Was that a way of treating a former Minister of Magic?

All of a sudden, the boy turned to him again, studying him with an intent look on his face. "So, muggles?"

Cornelius Fudge gritted his teeth. He would teach the boy some manners! "Non-magical people. Now show more respect for your elders, boy! I am the former Minister of Magic of Great Britain!"

Instead of apologizing though, the boy merely drew his hat deeper into his face and mumbled some more things in that barbaric language of theirs, something that sounded like 'Mother, mother, the nay' – whatever that meant. Just when Cornelius Fudge was ready to blow his top, the smiling boy from before interrupted _yet again_!

"Batto sehru, ize geimu, no majikku. Purakutisu haado, eburiwan ken du. No majikku. Sitto. Wacchu." (_But Sir, is game, no magic. Practice hard, everyone can do. No magic. Sit. Watch._)

Now that he thought about it, he understood the gist of the boy's speech. Something about no magic involved, and that he should sit and watch. But if that was what they sold as English in this backwater country, it needed some serious work.

He folded his arms. "So you deny the involvement of magic when it is so clearly visible? By all rights you should go to prison for that. But since I am a very tolerant man, I will give you the opportunity to convince me that you don't use magic," he added magnanimously.

The smiling boy's countenance fell a bit, and Cornelius Fudge was sure they were about ready to admit to their misdeeds. But then the hat-wearing boy said some more things – apparently translating his words – and the infernal smile was back. "Ai zih. Forroh mi. Wacchu. No majikku."(_ I see. Follow me. Watch. No magic._)

Disgruntled, Britains ex-Minister of Magic trailed after the strange boy, not quite believing he was wasting his time like that when those culprits were clearly guilty of breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

Once he had stepped off the clay court, the two boys resumed their positions on opposite sides of the net.

From what Cornelius Fudge had gathered so far, it was a game where two parties tried to keep a yellow-colored bludger from drifting out of bounds by using their pseudo-wands. And for some inane reason, the bludger first had to bounce off the ground to be considered a valid score. Really, quite a strange game in his opinion. Definitely nothing compared to Quidditch or real duelling.

An announcer said something Fudge couldn't understand, and the small boy bounced the ball a couple of times against the ground, threw it into the air, and whacked it with his pseudo-wand. The bludger glowed the briefest moment, but Cornelius Fudge thought that he'd be magnanimous and let it slip since it was too short to be really noticeable. The ball's flight path however clearly wasn't natural. At first, it seemed to fly like a completely normal ball; however once it bounced off the ground it clearly shot towards the opposite player's face at an unnatural angle.

The other one though already had his own pseudo-wand ready and shot it back. Once again, Cornelius Fudge could have sworn that the ball had left a streak of light to trace its flight path. Their exchange continued with the smaller one sprinting across the field like a mad-man – a few times, Cornelius thought that the boy must have taken quite a dose of Felix Felicitas to be able to get to all those balls at the very last second – whereas the older boy moved less and less. At first, Cornelius thought that the younger one deliberately hit the balls into the direction of the other, but upon closer observation, he realized that the bludger always curved towards the older boy, no matter where the younger one hit it. Clearly a localized space distortion ward or a passive summoning charm on the bludger, and a gross breech of the Statute to do this so openly visible.

"No magic, eh?" he hissed at the eternally smiling boy watching the match next to him. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

The boy shook his head. "No. Notto majikku. Izu tekkuniku. Booru supin, booru furai kaabu. Booru raito supin, booru to yuu riterun." (_No. Not magic. Is technique. Ball spin, ball fly curve. Ball right spin, ball to you return._)

Before Cornelius could actually get around to deciphering the boy's mangled speech, the boy with the strange hat jumped at least three meters high, wound up his pseudo-wand, and propelled the bludger towards his opponent with a clearly visible beam of focused magical energy behind it.

Cornelius Fudge jumped to his feet in vicious glee and pointed. "See! Magic! No muggle can jump that high, and using such blatant magic to return the ball! I should arrest all of you right that instant! Stop this match, you hooligans!"

The boy next to him looked down towards the court and then back to Cornelius with a puzzled expression.

"Notto majikku," he insisted with that infuriating smile. "Machu, machu toreiningu. Purakutisu janpu, purakutisu sumeshu, purakutisu rottsu. Zen eburiwan ken du." (_Not magic. Much, much training. Practice jump, practice smash, practice lots. Then everyone can do_)

Normally, Cornelius Fudge was a very reasonable man, willing to put up with a lot. But he had never heard anyone spout so much hogwash with a straight face that wouldn't melt butter. Did the boy think he was stupid? Or was he being mocked?

Threateningly, he leaned down towards the boy. "So you think 'eburiwan ken du' that with 'machu, machu toreiningu'? Then you can do that, too?"

With a blinding smile, the boy shook his head, utterly unfazed. "Doraibu A no ken do. Doraibu A Echizen's tekkuniku. Mai tekkuniku shikuretto." (_Drive A no can do. Drive A Echizen's technique. My technique secret._)

"Does your secret technique also have light effects like that?" Cornelius asked through gritted teeth, pointing viciously at the younger boy on the court who currently _was glowing_.

The former Minister of Magic took a double-take and looked again. Yes, he had seen right – the small brat was actually glowing and transferring the energy towards his pseudo-wand. When he smashed the bludger back towards the older one, it had so much force behind it that it dug itself into the hard clay surface.

Eyes bugging out, Cornelius was screaming himself hoarse for those miscreants to immediately cease and desist their spell-slinging. But the two players ignored him.

Instead, they continued with their admittedly impressive display of magic, disguising the actual trail of the ball with multiple illusions, bending its natural flight path in whichever manner it suited them, putting so much magic behind it that it left glowing tracks and afterimages that lasted for seconds, and showing off clearly inhuman feats of physical prowess.

The ever-smiling nuisance beside him finally grew worried, tugging at his sleeve and talking rapidly to him, but Cornelius couldn't be bothered with trying to understand his grossly mangled speech. He had criminals to apprehend.

Absentmindedly, he ripped his sleeve out of the boys hand as he made his way towards the two players.

Just as he was about to force his way onto the court again, a heavily accented voice interrupted him. "Excuse me, Sir, would you please sit down? You are causing a disturbance. We will see to it that this is taken care of."

Cornelius Fudge drew himself up to his whole height and puffed out his chest. When he caught sight of the two diminutive Asian men in black suits staring at him expectantly, he snorted. Couldn't the Japanese Ministry of Magic have sent more imposing help? Those two looked like a weak Aguamenti could push them over.

Gesturing towards the ongoing display of magic down at the court, Cornelius couldn't quite keep his doubts as to the two wizards' efficiency out of his voice. "Very well, go ahead. I already tried to explain to them that they can't do magic in front of Muggles, but they refused to listen to me. It is my duty as former Minister of Magic of Great Britain to ensure that all magic is kept secret from non-wizards, and this display over there is in gross violation."

The two men looked at each other. "Sir, you are aware that you are in Japan at the moment, aren't you?"

"Of course." Cornelius huffed. "In Great Britain, nobody would have dared to flaunt breaking the Statute of Secrecy so openly. And we would have responded a lot sooner before it got to _this_."

Now the older boy seemed to emulate the younger because his arm with the pseudo-wand started glowing as well.

"Ah, yes." The two men once again looked at each other uncomfortably, and Cornelius Fudge was certain that they were very embarrassed about the inexcusable behavior of their fellow wand users. Finally, the one with glasses stepped forward. "Sir, would you mind accompanying us outside so that we can… go to the Japanese Ministry of Magic… and ensure that proper reinforcements are called to deal with this?"

Cornelius smiled broadly because finally they were getting somewhere. It had taken them long enough after all. "Well certainly, gentlemen. I will talk to the Japanese Minister of Magic personally to ensure that this debacle is dealt with post haste. Oh, and by the way, I have to commend you on your disguise, your muggle clothes look very authentic. You must have had a lot of training, eh? Lead the way."

Chin raised and chest puffed out, Cornelius Fudge strutted off after the two Asian wizards without looking back.

* * *

Cocking his head slightly, Fuji Shuusuke watched the corpulent gaijin be led off towards the next asylum. He didn't know where that lunatic had escaped from, but he clearly belonged into a mental hospital. His dress sense alone should be illegal. Who in his right mind wore a neon purple and green plaid sweater together with khaki corduroy pants and a yellow bowler hat? And as if his fanatic believe in the existence of magic wasn't enough, the pompous man also suffered from delusions of grandeur, claiming to be a Minister of Magic…

As soon as the strange man was out of sight, Shuusuke got up and rejoined the rest of his team. He smiled at them. "Thank you for calling help so quickly, minna-san. I fear that if it had taken any longer, Fudge-san would have become violent."

"No problem, Fuji-kun," Kikumaru trilled, checking him over for any injuries. "You're alright, aren't you? That lunatic didn't hurt you?"

"No, no," Shuusuke waved them off. "I'm alright. Say, how did you get help so quickly? That wasn't even twenty minutes until they arrived."

Oishi blushed a little. "Eh, well, we thought it would be best if we sent that request through Atobe. He has the money and the influence to make things happen as quickly as possible. And since this concerned tennis, he didn't even demand anything except for a match against Echizen next week."

"WHAT?"

The Seigaku regulars refocused their attention onto the court, where it quickly became apparent that Echizen and Tezuka had interrupted their match to listen to Shuusuke's report.

Echizen looked a bit put out. "And you agreed to that without asking me first?"

Inui pushed his glasses further up his nose. "It was the most expedient manner of getting rid of the disturbance. And since you are the only one who apparently has Atobe's private phone number in his address book, there was an 84 percent chance that you wouldn't mind us contacting him for help. However, I couldn't come up with a viable theory on why you had his number in the first place?"

For a moment, Echizen looked flustered. Then his customary smirk reasserted itself as he tugged his cap further into his eyes. "That's for me to know and you to find out, sempai. Mada mada dane." Turning his back on them and idly bouncing a tennis ball on the narrow side of his racket, Echizen Ryouma ambled towards the base line for his next serve. "Come on, buchou, we have a match to finish."

Shrewd eyes narrowed. "Indeed."

And so things at Seigaku went back to their natural rhythm.

**

* * *

A/N:** After watching plenty of PoT, I got annoyed that their tennis skills grew so unrealistic that it became downright laughable. Actually, towards the end, the PoT matches didn't remind me so much of PoT anymore as of Dragon Ball Z or Tekken: Everyone has his signature super-technique that is guaranteed to blow the opposition out of the water unless they counter it with a similar super-technique or superior resistance. And of course, there are those technique snatchers that try to beat the original with their own medicine, but somehow the original finds some hidden aspect that makes them superior to the copy. And important matches are always so close that the hero has to pull his 32nd wind out of his arse to be able to finally overcome his opponent with a super-special, super-secret new technique that somehow manages to triumph over everything. And then those three states of self-actualization. Please don't get me started on them.

So I thought it would be fun to take a pot-shot at those completely unrealistic abilities, and I thought Cornelius Fudge was just the right man for that. After all, he can be sent off to the mad-house without any regrets, and so the PoT cast won't become involved in the discovery that magic actually does exist.

I hope you had as much fun reading that as I had writing it.

Sakiku


End file.
